The Key To My Release
by TroubledThoughts
Summary: What if there was a little something more that led him to be handcuffed to that bed? And what if that infamous little line wasn't as misinterpreted as it seemed? Sherlock/Irene lemony stuff. Because I just couldn't help it when I saw this scene.


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_**A Haven Of Mindless Pleasure/The Key To My Release **_

[Holmes is handcuffed to the bed naked with only a pillow covering him. A maid walks in and screams]  
Sherlock : "Madame, I need you to remain calm and trust me, I'm a professional. Beneath this pillow lies the key to my release."  
[the maid screams again and runs away]

What if it wasn't as misinterpreted as it seemed?

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Sherlock Holmes / Irene Adler lemony stuff. :) Cause I'm just devious and insatiable like that. It starts at the scene where he shows up at her door, and she ends up putting something in his drink, making him pass out... Weeeeelllll... What if the scene as portrayed in the movie is only how dearest Sherlock thinks he remembers it? What if that drug didn't act quite as it did in the movie? What if there was a little something more that led him to be chained to that bed? And what if that infamous little line wasn't as misinterpreted as it seemed?

Warnings, etc.  
He is pretty OOC in the middle, as he is drugged, and I was trying to show the effects of that. You'll see what I mean.  
Also, you know where this is headed. You saw the movie. He winds up hancuffed to a bed. This is the story of how he got there. If you don't think you're going to like that sort of thing, please don't bother reading it, because if you tell me it was a bad idea, I won't bother reading your review. :) k? k.

I'm actually really worried about this, to be honest. Last night, after I was finished writing this, I stumbled upon a fic that someone had written with the exact same inspiration as mine. It's pretty different than this one, but I still feel like people are going to compare the two, and we are all our own worst critics and... Well, I'm worried.

Ah hell, let's give it a shot.

* * *

I pretended I wasn't looking at her. Not _well_, mind you. But I pretended. I darted my eyes over the assortment of (likely stolen) things decorating her room. Maybe if I didn't look at her, I wouldn't get pulled into her trap. This was her old trick. By no means her _only_ trick, but certainly her best and, loathe as I was to admit it, most effective.

"If I am in danger, so are you. Come with me..."

She proceeded to beg me to please come away with her. That she wanted to change, that we would be so good together, that we could 'trust each other', all the lines she (errantly) thought that I would believe if only she looked at me with those big shining eyes. If only she spoke them just right. I nearly did. Quite nearly, in fact.

Cautiously, I chose my words.

"You're not listening . I'm taking you to either the railway station or the police station."

I downed the wine in my glass, and looked back at her, her own glass in hand, untouched.

That woman, declining a chance at alcohol. That meant one of three things. Either option a, she was no longer drinking, for any number of personal reasons (which was, I must say, nearly unbelievable), option b, she had some sort of aversion to this type of wine, which I, from experience, knew to be false, or, option c, the most likely and unfortunate of the three, I had just drunk from a bottle of poisoned wine.

That conclusion, plus the way that the world was gently beginning to float away from under my feet, undoubtedly meant I was now drugged, in a hotel room, alone with Irene Adler. Hardly a situation I ever expected to find myself in, or was at all prepared for.

"So, which will it be? The railway station, or the police station?" I asked, trying to sound more self-certain and aggressive than I felt. Because I just felt weak and my mind was beginning to wander to all sorts of places it didn't need to be.

"Hm. Sherlock." She giggled my name in the most coquettish, teasing way. "I believe I will take the third choice."

"And tell me, what would that be?"

"To my bed."

As my cursed mind went into overdrive at that thought, my body forced itself to be unaffected, calm, just as the way she so cooly acted towards me.

"Miss Adler. Do you really think that would be the most... Appropriate... Course of action, considering our--"

She put a finger over my lips and snapped one of my suspenders against my chest, playfully. "Shh. Don't consider. Just feel. Just... Let me convince you. Let me give you the facts, and just let you make the decision, Mr. Holmes. Is that not how you work?"

I cleared my throat to answer, but the biting reply was lost as she began to undo my belt and then my trousers.

"Irene-"

"Shh. Quiet. For once in your life, just stop thinking so much. Admit it. You cannot deny what it is that you want so badly, my dear Sherlock." Her lips met the edge of my ear and the world began to float even farther away.

This drug. Throughout this episode, it and its effects had not been absent in my body or my mind.

I noted that it became increasingly difficult to think clearly, not just as time elapsed, but as Irene continued with this behaviour. She had never told me what this substance was, or what exactly it was supposed to do. Obviously, whatever it was doing was to her benefit, and part of a larger plan. That plan being, I could only assume, her seamless escape.

She knelt, presumably to continue to remove my clothing against my own will and sane thought.

I also noted that, in my vulnerable current state, she was, as I always tried desperately to avoid, taking control over me.

"Distracted?" She asked, obviously picking up on the way my mind was still working, through her diversion, or plan, or whatever it was. "Whatever for? Have I failed to please you, Sherlock? Am I too predictable for the great mind of a detective such as yourself?"

"That's not it at all, I was simply, ah, pondering your intentions."

"Well then, ponder away, sir."

"That was meant as a--"

"I realize this. Why would I give away my plans to a man like you, when I've a great opportunity to go through with them like this?"

I was about to begin on the explanation, forming together all the facts of our previous experiences. However, all rational thought was stopped as her fingers deftly and gently tugged my pants down, apparently far enough to her liking, and attached her mouth to the slightly stretched fabric of my underwear.

The first thing to happen was the intensely high feeling from the drug in my veins and Irene's mouth on the most forbidden part of me.

The next was a dumb sound escaping from my mouth, the first sign of my slipping self-control, and then the obvious _reaction_ of my body, as a hot-blooded male.

Irene giggled sweetly around the growing flesh in her mouth and began to suck on it gently, drawing a groan from me and forcing me to search frantically behind me for something to hold onto before my legs could give out beneath me.

My hands found purchase on the soft padded arm of a chair and I gripped it for dear life as she removed yet more of my clothing and her mouth hit my now bare skin and the world began to spin, the drug and the animal in me taking me to a place yet unattainable to me and my analytical, exacting mind. A haven of mindless pleasure.

I purred her name as she rubbed her red-lipstick lips on the sensitive head of my cock, smearing the precum leaking from the tip.

"Good God Miss Adler..." My entire body tensed, a smile spread itself across her face and I pushed my hips forward, fucking her mouth.

Sounds slipped from my mouth faster than I could stop them and I heard (and felt) her girlish giggle.

She bit down ever so softly, the sensation making my nails dig into the fabric, tearing ten little nicks into the arm of the chair, and making the world around me start to fade to black. I was about to come harder than I ever had in my life.

And she stopped.

She stood up and looked at me, she the picture of composure but for slightly mussed hair and uneven lipstick. Neither her eyes nor her countenance told no tale of what she'd just been doing.

"Madam. To your soul, you are purely evil." I glared in her direction, my body shaking, my vision blurry, and my cock painfully hard.

"I know." she answered simply. "And if you plan on getting what you want, you will come to bed with me, Mr. Holmes, as I previously suggested. So with the facts in mind, will you join me?"

"Do you leave me a choice?"

She shrugged all too innocently in answer.

I quickly rid myself of what was left of my clothes and let her take my hands and let her lead me to her bed. I sat back on the bed but kept my feet on the floor, and she bent down to kiss me, her hands resting against my thighs, holding up her weight.

The moment her lips touched mine, I could feel the spark and the way I was not the only one who wanted this.

I felt myself shiver, heard myself gasp and moan like a needy virgin.

And the most disgraceful thing was, at that point, I didn't even care. Just as long as she kept touching me, I didn't care how foolish I looked or sounded.

My eyes were shut tight. I tried to think. How long was it since I'd had sex with a woman?

It can't have been _that_ long.

I heard Irene's sweet giggle before she touched the tip of her tongue to mine. _'When did I open my mouth...?'_ I wondered vaguely as my fingers worked on the buttons and the ribbons on her pink dress. Between the two of us, it found its way to the floor and she lowered herself into my lap, wearing a very small, very transparent white slip and a devious smile.

I didn't know whether to be afraid or aroused. I daresay I was a good bit of both.

She grinded against me, the feeling of both her overheated body and the sheer fabric against my skin making my eyes roll back in my head.

Curses slipped out of my mouth and I grabbed her bottom with both my wanting hands and pulled her closer, drawing a gasp from her.

"Did I give you the permission to touch me?" She asked, angrily, stopping all motion on me, making me so frustrated I could scream.

"Indirectly so, Miss Adler. As you invited me to your your bed, I assumed this must have been your purpose in doing so? So I could touch you?"

"So I could touch you. So I could get what I wanted." Her face was inches from mine, and I longed to kiss her.

"I don't believe that's fair."

"An intellectual like you surely must know that life is not fair." She was panting slightly, her tone in complete contrast to her words.

"True. According to your reasoning, it would probably be unfair to give me a second chance. And since life is so unfair--"

"Oh hush. I'm not going to leave." In a mumble, she added, 'not yet'

I didn't want to take my hands off her, but I did anyway.

"Don't let it happen again, Sherlock. Or you will find yourself in a most_ undesirable position_." As serious as she tried to stay, she couldn't keep the hint of a smile off her face.

"Yes ma'am." I felt compelled to say, wondering why I was letting _this woman_ control me, while at the same time, hoping she wouldn't stop.

"Now. Lay down. Let me have what I want."

I did and she straddled me. It seemed like _years_ as she teased my entire body. She licked and pinched and sucked and massaged on places I was never knew could feel the way she made them feel. She 'got what she wanted' until I was surely about to go insane. The world was going all blurry again and I could not at all control my body anymore.

Slowly, I crept my hand up from where it had been tangled in the bedsheets, parallel to her cream-white thighs but not touching her. That is, until my fingers found what they were looking for and slipped themselves inside her most forbidden place.

Her entire body tensed and she made the most beautiful pleasured face, her eyes closing and her mouth making a soft red 'o'.

She grinded into my fingers, and when I started rubbing circles over her extremely sensitive clit with my middle finger, she made a sound like she was trying not to scream, and her nails dug into my chest where they had been resting.

Finally I smiled. She was very _very_ wet and I already had her far enough gone to forget about my punishment. And apparently how to to breathe regularly.

She moaned loudly, and I wondered why I had considered _not_ doing this.

"Sherlock." She panted. "Don't think that I have forgotten."

"I never did." I lied smoothly, leaning up to caress her ear with my lips.

"Good."

Swiftly, she untangled herself from me and walked across the room to open a drawer and pull something out of it.

_Handcuffs?_

_Good God. What is this woman really after?_

She pulled me by my arms and chained me to the headboard, before I could so much as protest.

And there I was, lying on Irene's bed, in handcuffs, fully naked, with an erection and a certain sense of dread that she wasn't planning on doing anything about it.

Honestly. Who would have seen that coming?

She crawled up the bed, looking absolutely irresistable, and got on top of me once again.

"Irene, you worry me."

"I couldn't imagine why." She answered as she pulled on the chains above my head to make sure they were tight.

"I wonder. The use of handcuffs in such a setting, perhaps?"

"If that worries you, _this_ is going to be rather difficult for you."

"Wha--"

My word turned into a deep moan as, finally, she lowered herself down on me and I was fully inside that magnificent body in less than a second.

If I thought everything was blurry before, I was complaining about nothing. I could barely even see the beautiful sight of her body bouncing on top of mine as she rode me.

I could feel my heart beat in my head and my chained hands were curled into tight fists. She'd spent so long working me up to this point that I knew I wasn't going to last long at all.  
I could barely feel anything, just overwhelming pleasure. She had me screaming her name, nearly crying at my need of release.

I felt her inner muscles squeezing tight around me. I was sure I was finally, finally about to finish, and get my sanity back, and maybe be unchained from this bed.

That was the last thought in my mind before my world went completely black.

* * *

Yes, when I came to from passing out from this hormone-triggered drug, Irene was gone. I was still chained, completely alone, completely sexually frustrated, and completely naked. Well, almost. A pillow off the bed covered a certain part of my anatomy, and under it, impossibly and agonizingly cold against my skin, was attached a key. The key to the handcuffs.

How could I have fallen for that! For her! I knew she would only leave! Even drugged, I ought to have known that!

I rethought over all my actions, and only succeeded in making myself more frustrated. Sexual and otherwise.

In the middle of my musings, I heard someone coming down the hallway.

I couldn't move, even if I wanted to. Even if I did feel rather embarassed about the current predicament. I didn't even know who I hoped it to be. I didn't particularly want anyone I knew to see me like this.

It didn't matter anyway, as the person that came in was just a maid.

I suppose she was rather shocked to find me, as she screamed.

"Madame," I had said. "I need you to remain calm and trust me, I'm a professional. Beneath this pillow lies the key to my release."

She screamed and ran.

Ah, misinterpretations.

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By the way... Does anyone else notice that the pillow in the movie in considerably smaller than that of the commercial? Just saying. Not that I mind.  
Now that that's out of the way, I'll also say this. Feel free to vote for which title you feel is better suited to the story. I couldn't decide between 'The Key To My Release' , which is the quote from the movie that inspired the whole damn thing, and 'A Haven Of Mindless Pleasure', which is my favorite phrase from the story.  
Oh, um... So I'm really paranoid about this particular story not being up to standards of the other stories with this pairing. So, if you could be bothered to review me, I'd be very, very happy. I am constantly in need og reassurance and guidince.  
Hope you liked. :D_

--Rosalina ((TroubledThoughts))--


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